Page 12 of Jesse
He stopped, turning to face me. “He’s fine,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Still resting, but he’s stable.”
Relief flooded through me. “Good,” I said, almost to myself.
Jesse nodded, leaning back against the wall. “Cooper and your brother are still inside. They’re still talking things through. Once they’re done?—”
The mention of Jackson snapped me out of my relief. I shot to my feet, the cup of water forgotten on the bench beside me.
“Jackson?” The word came out sharper than I intended.
Without waiting for a response, I stormed down the corridor and pushed through the door.
“What the hell, Jackson?” I barked, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Where were you? Why didn’t you come? I called?—”
I stopped short, my words catching in my throat as my gaze landed on Preston.
He lay on the bed, wrapped snugly in a blanket. His breathing was steady, and his cheeks had regained some color since earlier.
I exhaled, the anger deflating. “Is he... okay?” I asked, quieter now.
Jackson, standing by the bed, glanced at me and sighed. “Head injury,” he said. “He’s out cold but healing.”
I took a step closer, the tension easing slightly.
Cooper’s deep voice cut through the room. “Let him rest.” He gestured toward the door, his expression unreadable but firm. “We’ll talk outside.”
Reluctantly, I followed Jackson and Cooper back into the corridor. Jesse joined us, his arms folded, posture relaxed.
“It’s town protocol,” Cooper began, his tone even but edged with something I couldn’t quite place.
Cooper continued, “We can’t conduct pack business in town unless it’s unavoidable. The sheriff doesn’t want the pack’s issues spilling into their jurisdiction. That’s why we waited for one of our own to arrive before doing anything.”
I clenched my fists, barely keeping my frustration in check. My wolf growled in agreement, but I understood.
Pecan Pines was walking a fine line, keeping the peace between human and shifter communities. Jackson mentioned this before. Still, it didn’t make the waiting any easier.
Cooper nodded toward the hallway. “Let’s go over what happened.”
As we walked, I recounted the events, my voice steady despite the churning in my gut.
The corridor opened into a room that smelled faintly of antiseptic. Stainless steel counters lined the walls, and in the center was a long table with a sheet-covered body.
“This is Ethan,” Cooper said, motioning to the man standing near the table. “One of our healers.”
Ethan pulled back the sheet to reveal the body. A cold knot of dread tightened in my stomach when I recognized him. It was the same man I’d discovered in my truck.
Ethan glanced at Jesse, then back at me.
“Jesse’s initial assessment was correct. The attacker was a shifter. The claw marks on the throat confirm it.” His expression darkened. “The victim’s human though. His matted hair, worn-out clothes, and dirty nails suggest he’s a drifter or homeless. We won’t get much more from him since the sheriff will take over from here.”
I swallowed hard, the reality sinking in. A shifter attack on a human. In Pecan Pines. This wasn’t going to end quietly.
“You need to go home, Beck. It’s not safe for you to stay here.” Jackson’s voice was firm, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared me down.
I bristled. “Go home? Are you serious? Someone just tried to kill Preston and left a body in my truck. My truck, Jackson.” My voice rose, and I didn’t care. “What makes you think I’d just run off now?”
“Because whoever did this is still out there,” Jackson shot back, his jaw tightening. “I’m not letting you be their next target.”
I forced myself to take a deep breath. “I’m not a kid anymore,” I said, quieter but no less firm. “And I’m not running away.”
